


All On a Summer's Day

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Arthurian, Body Worship, Double Penetration, Loyalty, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Obedience, Polyamory, Polyshipping, Porn with Feelings, Threesome - F/M/M, True Love, afternoon sex, sworn to the crown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 23:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Lancelot is summoned to the royal bedchamber and for once he doesn't know whether it's the king or queen who sent for him.





	All On a Summer's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a polyshipping promp on tumblr.

 

Lancelot was a knight of the realm, and knights of the realm did not fidget while they waited to find out why they had been summoned to the royal bedchamber. But if they did, it would be understandable. And not many knights of the realm were in such a situation as Lancelot, to be fair.

He looked calm as a summer’s day, clad in his tunic, hands clasped politely behind his back, eyes trained on the closed door before him. It had been nearly twenty minutes, and the waiting was wearing on him. Waiting for battle was one thing. Waiting for this was another thing entirely.

For one thing, he had no way of knowing just which royal personage had had him summoned here. The summons had appeared, borne by a small page boy, and he had obeyed, as he always did. But normally, when it was Guinevere who wanted him, there was a small flower pressed into the paper, that smelled of lilac and honeysuckle. And when it was Arthur, well, normally Lancelot simply found himself pressed up against an alcove, warm breath on his neck and a low murmur of ‘I need you.’

Lancelot had never refused a royal summons. Partly because it was his sworn duty to serve the throne, and partly because he loved his king and queen most dearly. He refused to choose between them, and would have severed the head of any man who tried to make him do so.

Instead he simply lived his life from moment to moment, delighting in the smile Guin passed him in the corridor, and reveling in the laughter upon Arthur’s lips when he said something amusing. It was not a crime to love two people thus; he would not have changed it.

But occasionally he did wish things were, well…somewhat less awkward in matters of the bedchamber.

Which one of them had summoned him today? How was he to compose himself? He didn’t know until he knew which one of them it was and there was no way of knowing that until the door opened and still the door did not open.

It was no help at all when the door finally opened and he entered. Seeing both of them standing there merely struck him dumb.

At last he managed a faint, “Your majesties.” and bowed, keeping his head down a moment longer than he usually would, trying to reason this.

“I told you he would be surprised.” That was Arthur speaking.

“Of course he’s surprised.” Guinevere declared. “Lancelot, please.’

“Rise, man.” Arthur said impatiently. “Rise.”

Lancelot rose, his eyes darting between the two of them questioningly. Perhaps the king wished to watch him and the queen, or perhaps the queen wished to observe the king and himself. He would be lying if he said he’d never dreamed about this prospect and Lancelot du Lac was never a liar.

Still, he wasn’t dreaming.

“Might I inquire…” for a moment his voice failed him, and then somehow he managed to summon a reserve of fortitude and continued, “which of you requires my service?”

“Well, the matter of it is,” Arthur began, glancing at Guinevere.

“We both do.” Guinevere said firmly.

“Oh.” Said Lancelot. “Well.” First one and then the other, he supposed. That would be all right. There was certainly no reason to feel disappointed about it.

“Lancelot.” Guinevere spoke softly this time, touching his cheek so that he would look at her. “We want to be with you, both of us together.”

“Oh.” Said Lancelot in an entirely different voice. He looked at Arthur then, waiting to see what he would say.

Arthur, his king, and the only knight Lancelot would ever allow could possibly best him with a sword, stepped forward and cupped his jaw, leaning in to kiss him. His kiss was familiar on Lancelot’s mouth, steadying him. This was no dream, they truly both desired him and for once he did not have to shut out part of his heart.

“Very well.” He said when he had breath to speak once more. “It would be my honor to join you.”

Arthur smiled, that sweet bold smile of his that caused Lancelot’s heart churn with affection. There was no limits to his love for his king, and the fact that Arthur had allowed him to love Guinevere as well, well, that only made Lancelot love him more.

“Come then.” Guinevere stepped forward. “Let us get you ready for bed.”

He stood there between them as they undressed him, watching Arthur’s face focused in concentration as he undid the laces on Lancelot’s tunic, aware at the same time of Guinevere undoing his belt and letting it slip to the floor.

“It should be me, doing this for you.” Lancelot protested only halfheartedly. He liked watching Arthur’s hands at work, liked seeing them upon his body.

“Your king wishes to undress you.” Arthur murmured, reaching for the hem of his tunic, drawing it up so that Lancelot could pull it over his shoulders. Bare-chested he stood before his king as Arthur gazed at him. “Would you deny him that pleasure?”

“I would deny him nothing.” Lancelot spoke without thinking.

A flicker of surprise showed briefly in Arthur’s eyes and for a moment Lancelot wondered if Arthur truly had no idea of the depths of his loyalty and love for him. Was it possible that he could not know?

Guinevere’s hands ran down his bare back to his hose, cupping his buttocks through them. Lancelot gave her a quick look. He would be lying if he said he’d never wondered how the two of them were in bed. Were they as playful together as the queen was with him? Did…she do to Arthur the things she liked to do with him? It occurred to him then as he stood there watching Guinevere undress that he was going to find out. The thought aroused him, more noticeably than usual perhaps because by this point he was only wearing his hose.

Guinevere smiled at the sight as she let her dress fall to the floor. “That is quite the offering for your king, sir knight.”

Lancelot blushed as he turned to face her. It astonished him that she was still able to make him blush, even now, but she could and somehow he was charmed by it, and her delight in making it happen.

“It is also for my queen.” He returned.

Guinevere’s smile widened, and Lancelot saw her gaze move over his shoulder to Arthur. When he turned back around he saw why.

Arthur was glorious in jousts, in battle there was no one like him. It was like the heavens opened before him and God himself rode down from the clouds. Not that Lancelot would be so blasphemous as to compare Arthur to God, but at the same time, the crown was a holy office and Arthur had been chosen to be king.

Lancelot went to his knees. “My king.”

“Lancelot.” Arthur went to him, placing a hand on Lancelot’s hair. He stroked him with affection, “You are to use my name when we’re in this chamber, remember?”

Lancelot nodded, bowing his head. He remembered that, he did and he loved using Arthur’s name. At the same time, it was hard to forget that Arthur was his king. The hand caressing his hair wanted him to and so he looked up.

A breathtaking sight before him, was Arthur. Golden and wondrous and nude. Lancelot wanted to cover his body in worship, mouthing a litany of prayers upon his flesh.

Behind him Guinevere moved in to stand behind, resting her hands on his shoulder. The two of them, with him between them. This was the sort of thing Lancelot had dreamed of. Dreamed of, yet never spoken aloud.

Arthur’s hand moved to cup his cheek. “Come.”

They moved to the bed and Arthur kissed him, it was a kiss of hunger and devotion that Arthur bestowed upon him. The sunlight streamed through the open window, bright and smelling of honeysuckle. Lancelot wrapped his arms around Arthur, kissing him deeply, feeling the passion stirring with him.

Arthur cradled him on the bed, hands moving over his body hungrily, sliding down Lancelot’s torso to cup his backside, bringing his groin full against Arthur’s.

“I want you.” Arthur murmured.

Lancelot breathed in deep, the scent of Arthur’s skin bringing him to hardness.

“Come on.” Arthur kissed him again.

It passed in a blur, Arthur’s hands upon him, his fingers stretching Lancelot. The way his cock fit inside Lancelot, making Lancelot arch his back with a cry.

This was straight out of one of Lancelot’s dreams, if he had ever let himself dream about such a thing. Arthur fucking him here in their royal bed with Guinevere lying beside them, her hands upon the both of them, kissing them as she desired. Lancelot threw his head back and gasped, his cock spilling over his belly, as Arthur uttered a low groan, his hands clutching hard at Lancelot’s body, finishing inside him.

Arthur withdrew, kissing him on the forehead as he moved off the bed.

 

 *  *  *

 

For a moment Lancelot lay there in a daze. It wasn’t simply that it was in the daytime. He was often summoned to the royal chamber in the afternoon. It was often the best time for it. The sun warmed his skin, making the day seem more dreamlike than before.

Guinevere settled beside him, stroking her fingers through his hair.

Arthur watched them as he poured a goblet of wine for each of them and brought them over to the bed.

“Here.”

Lancelot accepted a goblet and took a deep sip. He felt heady with the scent of arousal in the air and the two of them here together. Guinevere’s sitting there in the bright sunlight, hair loose and radiant, her breasts so round and full, the light hair at her cunt. He worshiped all of her, he had always had.

Guinevere rested her chin in her hands, gazing at him. “What’re you thinking, Lancelot?” She whispered.

“How lucky I am to be here with you.”

Arthur sat on the side of the between them. “We should have had you here a long time ago.” His words were quiet, pensive, causing Lancelot to look at him quizzically.

“Why did you decide on today?” They could have easily gone on the way they had before. There had been no need for them to break the pact they’d had together. He would have been quite content in that regard. Even if he did occasionally dream of something more, he would never have dared to ask for it, and they all know it.

Arthur looked at him, his eyes searching Lancelot’s face. “We both wanted you.” He said simply. “And why should we not have that, if you desire it too?”

There had always been concerns. Someone would see, someone would tell, someone would object to the king taking a lover, to the queen having an affair, but this simple boldness was more than Lancelot could understand. He leaned in and brushed Arthur’s lips with his own tenderly.

Arthur’s mouth parted from his at last, with a sigh. He stroked Lancelot’s cheek for a moment before nodding to Guinevere.

She rolled Lancelot over, straddling him, squeezing him with her thighs, wrapping him in her warmth.

“My queen.” Lancelot whispered as she kissed him.

“Lancelot.”  The mere fact of his name on her lips, the way her tongue murmured it was a declaration of love. He melted in the face of it, kissing her harder.

Arthur and he had just fucked. There were some who would say, was that not enough? And yet, he knows if it was just the two of them, she would allow him time to recover and then they would couple a second, often even a third time as well, making the most of their together before they had to be apart once more. Rarely had they ever met without fucking at least twice. This time would be no different in that regard.

“Arthur knows well enough of your stamina.” Guinevere announced. “Now is not the time to be modest.” She leaned down to catch his lip with her teeth. “And you will call us both by our names today.”

Lancelot responded by sitting up, catching her in his lap. He smoothed her long golden hair back from her face, kissing her forcefully, desirous as ever for her lips.

Arthur kissed her shoulder and Guinevere drew him down on the bed as she kissed him.

“Like this.” She whispered. Arthur on his back, with her sinking down on his cock, uttering a little moan as he filled her cunt. Lancelot halted for a moment, watching them with breathless admiration, and then she reached for him. “Come here.”

“But.” He paused as he realized what she wanted. How could they, was she truly intending him to enter her there?

“Come on.” Guinevere drew him to her. “I want you both inside me.”

Obeying her, because of course he obeyed her, he pressed deep into her, stifling a groan. He watched watched Arthur over her shoulder, Arthur’s hands upon her breasts caressing and cupping them. Guinevere’s hair fell over them both, waves of radiant gold raining down upon them. He moved with them, and then his hand slid over Guinevere’s hip and Arthur’s hand closed over his.

Lancelot closed his eyes, kissing her throat as she clenched her buttocks tightly around his cock. He felt raw and wild with love and lust. Was there something wrong in that? The lust they stirred up within him? The love that existed in this room? He closed his eyes tighter, not wanting to dwell on that. If this was sin, he would sin and sin again.

Arthur’s hand squeezed his tighter, and he felt a tremor pass between their bodies. The groan of Arthur’s rose up within him and they came together like waves crashing in over the rocky beach.

 

 *   *   *

 

It was still only late afternoon and yet Lancelot felt drowsy, sated beyond mere satisfaction. He lay sprawled on the wide bed, Guinevere on one side, and Arthur on the other. Arthur’s hands were in his hair, Guin’s arm draped over his belly. The air smelled of all of them, their scents mingled together in the air, joining the heat and the honeysuckle. Lancelot breathed it in, closing his eyes.

This was true peace. This was bliss, contentment. He would let his soul be damned, if this was the cost. He would find his heaven upon the earth, here, with them.


End file.
